The Official Portal to the Madness of Dark Fiction Author Patrick C. Greene

Guest Blogs

Dusk’s Warriors by Emerian Rich

22835257_10154844436022601_1720627097_nJulien is a tortured soul. His whole life he’s been infected by his father, the devil. Beings from another world planned a destiny he doesn’t want to fulfill. All he wants is his vampire life back. Will he ever find peace?

 

Excerpt from Dusk’s Warriors:

Scribbling in the flickering candlelight, the woman tried to capture what happened minutes before. A breath, and then on with the story she’d never show to another living soul. Perhaps the greatest work ever, but no one would ever know, for she was not alone in her small abode.

A stranger lurked only steps away, savoring the moment he may never have again.

“To kill once more,” Julien said to himself. “To drink the blood even as it draws cold. To feel her fear and see a life pass through her eyes which I have only observed.”

An eternity, it seemed as he crossed the room and placed his cool, marble lips to her warm, tender neck.

Alas, the blood was not warm. It was ice cold.

 

Julien woke to find he’d been dreaming, a bittersweet nightmare of a dream with him as the victim, not she. If only Julien could go on, accept his new life, live it as his immortal comrades.

He wanted his passion back. Nothing brought him pleasure anymore. He didn’t need food or drink to live, and even the luscious taste of wine made from Heaven’s own vineyard had lost its potency.

He drifted back into his restless sleep, filled with memories only posing as dreams.

 

A fresh young mortal in his arms, smelling of leather and alcohol. Beauty in its finest form. Her blood had been rich, filled with a power no mortal had, infused with knowledge and enlightenment. She had control over him in those moments before, beckoning him to give her pleasure in that intimate way. Why had he touched her so? Running his hand over her soft breasts, down across her shapely thighs to the mound of ecstasy had seemed a necessity. How warm she was inside. He believed if he submerged his skin into her warm moisture, his immortal coldness would fade. It did, for a time, as she rose to his touch and her blood ran into his mouth like a fountain of youth.

Blood. More of a feeling than a taste. Pure pleasure.

 

Opening his eyes, Julien found himself in the everlasting garden so green it almost hurt his eyes, but hurting was not known in Heaven. Even the bright sunlight had a soft glow to it. Not hurting perhaps, but longing.

Julien knew nothing but longing. He did not want to be the God of Dawn. Although he’d accepted the position, he longed to be a vampire once more. He wanted to be feared, mysterious, allowed the evil deeds he’d pretended to hate in his vampiric life, but which over the years, he’d come to savor.

He rose from the healthy, damp grass, his limbs numb and head throbbing. True, there was no pain in Heaven, but his sorrow surpassed physical aches. He stretched his arms far up into the sky. The sight of his pale, marble-like limbs sent a spark of anger through him. They had made him their…creature. Their god. His mother—if she truly was his mother—had planned it. The olden gods had helped. Damn them! And damn his father—the devil himself—for causing it.

Never did Julien’s life seem so meaningless. He was supposed to be happy, to feel purpose. He was Lord Dawn, the god of the time between Night and Day when the first appearance of daylight breaks the morning, waking birds and farmers and…

Never again. I will never feel as I did, again.

Julien walked around The Garden, and then broke into a sprint. The Garden went by in a blur as his speed grew. His long white hair flew out behind him. He wanted to be away from the beautiful world. He wanted to be alone. In the too pretty place, with no pain, he felt as if he were being judged, as if the olden gods, or the gods above, or even Jespa waited to see him fail.

Damn Jespa! Damn her world! Damn every force that be! Julien’s rage built as he rounded The Garden. Away! I want to be away! He ran faster and faster, thinking of all that had passed. All he’d lost. Finally, he jumped into the nothingness of his own sector, creating a path to run on. Just a path. No towers or gates or gold cherubs or red sky, just a road…to nowhere.


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Dusk’s Warriors by Emerian Rich

 

Heaven has opened up and welcomed the vampires of Night’s Knights into a new reality. As they struggle to find their place in their new world, trouble brews on Earth.

 

Demon servant, Ridge, is causing havoc by gathering up all the souls on Earth that have been touched by immortality. When he injures one of the Night’s Knights crew, he launches a war between the vampires of Heaven, the Big Bad in Hell, and a mortal street gang of vigilante misfits.

 

Will Julien, Markham, and Reidar be able to defeat the evil that’s returned, or will they once again need Jespa’s help?

 

Praise for Dusk’s Warriors:

“All hail, the queen of Night’s Knights has returned! Emerian Rich’s unique take on vampires delights my black little heart.” ~Dan Shuarette, Lilith’s Love

 

“A world of horror with realistic characters in a fast paced thriller you won’t be able to put down.”

~David Watson, The All Night Library

 

Praise for Night’s Knights:

“Fresh, original, and thoroughly entertaining.” ~Mark Eller, Traitor

 

“Emerian brought the Vampire Novel back from the dead.” ~C. E. Dorsett, Shine Like Thunder

 

Available now at Amazon.com in print and eBook

 

https://www.amazon.com/Dusks-Warriors-Nights-Knights-Vampire/dp/1544628803


22895026_10154844435977601_1337514846_nEmerian Rich is an artist, horror host, and author of the vampire series, Night’s Knights. She is the hostess of the internationally acclaimed podcast, HorrorAddicts.net. Under the name Emmy Z. Madrigal, she writes the musical romance series, Sweet Dreams and she’s the Editorial Director for the Bay Area magazine, SEARCH. She lives in the San Francisco Bay Area with her husband and son.

 

 

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Guest Blog:What Does Young Adult Fiction Mean?

bwaToday we are excited to bring you a guest blog post from our very good friend and author Bryan W. Alaspa! Take it, Bryan!

So, you’re a writer and you want to write young adult fiction. You are convinced that you have the stories, series or idea that will be the next Harry Potter, Divergent or Hunger Games. Great – but now what?

It’s a funny thing, but statistics show that more adults read stuff labeled “young adult” than the supposed demographic. As for what that demographic is, well, that varies too. Generally your tween years is when you get most of your young adult readers.

What does it mean to write that kind of fiction? The first thing you need to know is that your audience, even if they are tweens, do not want to be talked down to. They are very plugged into the world and they know that bad things happen. People die. People murder other people. Kids get killed. People have sex. So, eliminating all of that or using words you think a “kid” will appreciate will completely take them out of the story and toss your book aside.

I read an article once where Stephen King said if he had a chance to meet JK Rowling (he since has, but I don’t know if he ever asked this question) he would ask her about the Harry Potter books: When did you decide to stop writing them for kids and just to write them.

J.K.-Rowling-Author-of-the-Harry-Potter-books-14385093_2450_ver1.0_640_480If you have read the series you know that happened. That first book just has a “kids” feel to it. It’s great adventure, but you can kind of tell this was meant for a younger audience. But, as the series went on, that sort of fell away. Ms. Rowling just told a tale with all of the violence and horror that fighting an evil creature like Voldemort would entail. It just happens that her characters are kids.

So, my advice would be to write the story that you have to tell. Author Judy Blume has been writing books for kids for decades and yet she has tackled very adult themes head-on in most of them. That should be your tactic, too.

My first YA novel was a supernatural romance called Sapphire. It had teenage protagonists and the style was a bit different than my more “adult” novels. I made the violence a tiny bit tamer, not going into such graphic detail. I even implied sex at one point, but did that in the way a PG-13 movie will show the coupe kissing and then slowly drift over to a curtain blowing gently in the wind and then fade to black.

In my most recent novel, The Lord of Winter, there is violence. There is a very scary villain. People die. That happens because for the amount of action and destruction that happens in the novel for it not to happen would not be realistic. The key is that I focus on the characters and don’t dwell on the blood and gore like I might in a horror novel.

Kids have to deal with adult things all the time. We are more plugged in today than ever before. Teens have iPhones and tablets and they see the terrorists, the 24 hour news coverage of shootings. They deal with the fact that a white dude with a beef can get easy access to a gun and walk into their school to try and work out his issues by killing a few dozen of them. So, to create a story that doesn’t live in that kind of world is lying to the reader. You don’t want your story to be dishonest.

Never talk down to them. Tell your story. If it’s a good one, they’ll listen. If it’s a really good one, hopefully they ask for more.

BWA


Guest Blog: YA Author Bryan W. Alaspa

Bryan W. Alaspa on WRITING YOUNG ADULT NOVELS

First off, I wanted to thank Patrick for letting me guest write on his blog. I love Patrick’s work and I cannot wait for his next novel to come out. We have discovered that we share a lot of common interests and I think his work is going to become rather legendary among thriller/horror fans.

I have been writing for some time now. I first started writing when I sat down at my mom’s electric typewriter in the third grade and spent days banging out a three-page, single-spaced, no-paragraphs short story that was, essentially, a rip off of Jaws. I had been fascinated with that novel and movie even though I had yet to read it or see it. I just thought sharks were super cool.

I wrote all the time after that. Short stories, mostly, and all of them were in the realm of horror. I did a few sci-fi things, but they also had a horror bent. This was even before I discovered the likes of HP Lovecraft and Richard Matheson. I ate up horror movies constantly and began reading ghost stories and thrillers meant for kids and then for adults. I began reading adult horror starting in 6th grade when I grabbed my dad’s copy of Stephen King’s novel Cujo. I was hooked after that and began devouring horror and thrillers like a starving man.

Writing for me has always been something that I just sort of did. The stories were just there. I knew that I was writing for adult readers sometime in high school when I began adding a bit of sex into the tales and the gore and language increased. I wrote my first novel, by hand, in my senior year of high school. It was awful, of course, but it was a start and my first long-form storytelling.

I didn’t even consider writing Young Adult stories until a few years ago. It wasn’t really something I had decided to do. I was simply sitting in my living room watching a television show about ghosts and the story idea came. As I started writing it, with the main character being a young man in high school, I realized that I was not using quite as many swear words as I normally did and that the story just sort of lent itself to the description of YA. That became my romantic ghost story known as Sapphire.

I discovered that writing for a younger audience was interesting and not that much different than writing for adults. When writing for teenagers these days, you have to realize that they deal with many of the same things, ask the same questions, have the same fears and desires as adults. They just haven’t dealt with all of those feelings and their emotions are a bit wild. You cut down on the sex a bit (although teens deal with that, too) and get a little less graphic. You also cut down on the swearing a bit and –voila!

TLW-Cover-Final-195x300It was the aspect of dealing with teenage feelings that led to my new novel The Lightning Weaver. It tells the story of a teen girl who discovers that she has vast powers. Of course, at first, she doesn’t’ realize how to control them or understand who or what she is. She soon discovers that she is part of a race of humans known as Elementals. They can control one of the four elements, although some are more powerful than others. Imagine being a teenager with all of those confusing thoughts and feelings and wanting to fit in and then you discover you have vast powers you can barely control. Imagine you find out you aren’t really a normal human being – but some offshoot of humanity. Imagine you find out that there’s now a war coming. How would that make you feel?

It is something that I wanted to explore and then imagined three others of equal power and of the same age. What would bring them together?

Once again, I did not set out to create these stories as young adult stories, they just turned out that way. As I began writing, I realized that this was a YA series, fit for those in their teens. At the same time, I don’t attempt to “dumb down” the story. If you try to talk down to your audience, just because they’re teens, you’ll lose them.

I haven’t become just a YA author. I still write for those a bit older, but I still believe that the same basic point is to tell a compelling and well-told story. If you do that, whatever audience you choose will find you. The story is always king.

You can buy a copy of Bryan W. Alaspa’s  new novel The Lightning Weaver,  in ebook and print editions here: http://bryanwalaspa.com/books/the-lightning-weaver-the-elementals-part-one/


The Guide: Celebrating Women in Fiction 2014

Via Sekhmet Press LLC 

The Guide: Celebrating Women in Fiction 2014.

Welcome to Books, Babes, and the Business

We will be celebrating women in fiction the entire month of February.

We will  host a guest blogger each day, then on February 28th from 1-3 pm EST you can join us on Facebook for a big party! We’ll have virtual refreshments, hilarious games, and REAL PRIZES! Don’t miss it! Invite your friends!

Feb 1. Welcome to Celebrating Women in Fiction 2014
2. Allison M. Dickson
3. Killion Slade ….CLICK FOR FULL SCHEDULE


The Metatron Mysteries


Trench Coats, Pretty Dames, and Video Games

Today we are so excited to host Allison M. Dickson as she tells us all about

Trench Coats, Pretty Dames, and Video Games

If someone ever asks me why I wrote COLT COLTRANE AND THE LOTUS KILLER, those seven words will pretty much sum it up.

film-noir-helpI love the way men and women dressed in the forties, fifties, and the early sixties. Everyone was gorgeous back then. Look at a picture of your mother or your grandmother from those days and try to find a flaw. Her hair will be perfectly curled and shaped. Her makeup and jewelry will be just so. Her dresses will be perfectly tailored to fit her body, because the whole concept of buying mass-produced clothing off a discount store rack was still pretty much unheard of back then, and she probably made that dress herself because it was cheaper. And the men, so crisp in their suits, their features and closely cropped haircuts set off just so by their fedoras.
While I have been in love with the COLT era for quite some time, and I had the idea of this particular book in my head for several years, I didn’t start to feel like I had it in me to actually sit down and write it. Details necessary to writing period fiction tend to elude me, and despite how many years I’d watched movies and studied the history of the era, I felt ill prepared to tackle it until I played a video game of all things. L.A. Noire, to be precise. rockstar gameAs anyone who follows Rockstar Games knows, they pride themselves on highly detailed and authentic environments. The game happened to be set in the same year as Colt, and the main character in the game is a police officer. So not only was I able to play through actual crime scene investigation techniques necessary for Colt to know (as a former homicide cop), I was also able to get a feel for the ways people communicated, the types of cars they drove, the actual landmarks in Los Angeles at the time, and any other cultural nuances. And it was that game’s exploration of the city’s storm drain system that inspired me to create the monster lurking there. Rockstar might have taken creative liberties too, but then again I added robots to the mix.
While some would argue that video games are more of a diversion from writing than an actual tool, in this case, I would have to disagree. For someone like me, who is a very kinesthetic kind of learner, playing this game was better than watching movies or surfing the internet. I was actually able to reach out and interact with the environment in a way that was impossible in any other medium. The game also has a fantastic soundtrack (available on Spotify). In a way, the experience of using a video game to help me write this book was like the world of Colt Coltrane himself. A bridging of the past and the present to create a soupy mix of fun ideas. I can’t wait for folks to eat it up.

CLICK THE IMAGE TO BUY

colt cover amd

Join the Virtual Release Party Saturday November 23rd 1-3 pm EST


Culling Forth the Darkness (Again)

Allison M. Dickson, best-selling author of the new horror novel STRINGS, is here to chat with us today. Welcome Allison!

GUEST BLOG from Allison M. Dickson

amd nanoThis post coincides with the stare of National Novel Writing Month, the annual November marathon of creative abandon that will result (hopefully, for many) in a completed work of long fiction. I have done this every year since 2008, except I changed things up a little last year. In early October, I had this little book in mind called STRINGS, which was an extension of my short story “The Good Girls.” It was burning so hot in my brain and begging to be written that I decided I couldn’t wait for NaNoWriMo, so I was going to do TWO NaNoWriMos that year instead. Yes, that meant writing STRINGS in October and then start another book in November. MADNESS, I tell you! Especially for someone who is only moderately prolific. If I finish two books a year, I’m doing great for myself.

Well… it didn’t quite work out like I’d hoped. Writing STRINGS was a very dark and challenging thing. It was an obsession. It made me bleed. I had managed to write something like 65,000 words (13,000 additional words were comprised of the short story that I’d started with) in 26 days, and by the time I finished that first draft, I felt like I’d run a double marathon across a bed of hot coals. I didn’t have it in me to start anything again for a while after that, and to be honest it’s been a challenge to get another novel finished ever since then!

amd dark cloudsNow here I am about to do it again. I am diving back into the world of STRINGS, only this time I’m doing it properly and starting November 1st. I figure maybe my problems getting another book finished revolve around my need to delve back into this world. It’s a bit obsessive. It’s like touching a live wire but being titillated by the shock. Maybe just maybe I’ll have most of a completed first draft of THE MOON GONE DARK by November 30th. I’m very much looking forward to getting started on it. With the current buzz surrounding the book, and with the memory of my most recent STRINGS edit still fresh in my head, the energy just feels right. And I have many lofty ideas in my mind for how I want things to go for the current characters, as well as some new players I want to introduce. I want this story to be bigger than the original. Much bigger. Which is probably why I don’t anticipate finishing it IN November, but we’ll see what happens. If it’s anything at all like the first experience was, it will sink in its teeth like a crocodile and whip me back and forth until its had its fill, leaving me a busted up heap. I’ll likely be sleeping with my face in gravy on Thanksgiving. But that’s well worth it if it makes people react the way they seem to be reacting right now to the first book.amd croc fish

Even though I don’t foresee this being quite as visceral as STRINGS, I promise not to pull any punches. To get into the mood, I’m going to embrace the cloudy and rainy late fall weather we’ve been having lately. I’m going to be listening to a lot of dark and moody music and watching some gritty movies. I may even pick up HAUNTED by Chuck Palahniuk for a little more depraved literary inspiration. Either way, a shadow is getting ready to fall across my heart again. I’ll see you all again in the light on the other side.

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amd holding strings2Bio: Allison M. Dickson lives in Dayton, Ohio with her husband and two kids, and she has been writing since she could hold pencil to paper. It’s only in recent years that she started treating the craft as a career. After earning a few small publishing credits, she started selling her short stories online, where she gained a decent following with short stories, including her bestselling titles “Dust” and “Vermin.” She soon caught the attention of author and visionary Vincent Hobbes, and her relationship with Hobbes End Publishing solidified with her two contributions to the second volume of The Endlands, and finally with the publication of her visceral thriller novel, STRINGS, in October of 2013. Additionally, Hobbes End will be releasing her dystopian science-fiction epic, THE LAST SUPPER, in spring of 2014. When she isn’t writing, she can be found every Thursday on the podcast Creative Commoners, a show she co-hosts with her partners in crime, Chris Armstrong and Corey Bishop.

Website: http://www.allisonmdickson.com

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/msallied

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/authorallisonmdickson


Re-Blog ~ Review of PROGENY from Darkly Everafter

The book was smooth and super easy to read.

A man, Owen Sterling, buys land from the local Tsalagi tribe with the promise not to sell or exploit the land…

…To my surprise there was a much deeper story than I expected.

****THIS REVIEW CONTAINS SPOILERS****

My review of: Progeny.


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A Review of Dark Destinies

DD cover 6x9 FINAL1

A Review by Bryan W. Alaspa ~

There is something about short stories. They lend themselves particularly well to the horror genre, but there is something about them that makes them not quite as popular as novels. I think it has to do with the thing that makes them work so well for me – their shortness. That may seem obvious, but bear with me.

When you have a much longer work, well, you have time to identify with the characters. You slowly immerse yourself into their world. You get to know them. Some of the best novels make you feel like they are part of your life, as if they were real people. Then you go through the ups and downs with them and, at the end, there is usually some kind of resolution. Granted, not always, and some of them leave you hanging, but even those can make you feel like you have left these people that you came to love someplace, maybe having learned something.

The short story, meanwhile, does not have that luxury. You are often flung into the worlds of the characters. You have to catch up quick, and then shocked by the horrific things that happen to them, and just when you are starting to get the rhythm and vibe of the characters, the story ends! Often short stories, more than any other type of writing, leaves you hanging, without that blissful resolution. Their literary teases.

However, that does lend itself to horror. I think it lends itself to horror better than any other genre. And the horror genre has embraced it. Most of Poe and just about all of Lovecraft came in short story form. Some of the best stories you might know from Stephen King, originated in short story form (Children of the Corn, Trucks, The Lawnmower Man).

For some, it is also an opportunity to break themselves in to a writer that they might want to try out in nugget-sized bites first. And it is in that vein that I tell you about Patrick C. Greene’s horrifying and excellent collection of short stories called Dark Destinies.

Read more at http://bryanwalaspa.com/2013/04/24/review-patrick-c-greenes-dark-destinies/


DYING DAYS are upon us….

Presenting 
The Man Armand Rosamilia
 
 Armand is the author of the Dying Days Collection.

 

 “Dying Days are upon us. The Undead roam the Earth…searching for the living…to eat…to feast…to rip apart…” 
We are always lucky to have Armand. Not only because all the ladies love him, but turns out he’s a pretty damn good writer as well. Today he is sharing an unreleased flash fiction story in anticipation of his forthcoming June release DYING DAYS 3. You should also check him out in Miami Spy Games and Fifty Shades of Decay (I love that title!)
 

Take it away, Armand…

This is an unreleased short story set in the Dying Days zombie world. The idea came to me after meeting one of my girlfriend’s friends and listening to his obsession with reality TV shows, and pretty much just watching every show available. I took it to the extreme and it’s not really about him (although his real name may or may not be Patrick), and it might be 100% what he would do during the zombie apocalypse. Or not (especially if he decided to sue)…
  
Dying Days: Television
Armand Rosamilia
            Patrick held the universal TV remote in his hand and pointed it at the blank screens until gravity forced it down. He sighed loudly (like the winner of season five’s Survivor had done to psyche out the other two remaining contestants) and fell back onto the couch.
            Even though the power had tripped, the backup generators were working and, therefore, the cable and satellite feeds should be working. The televisions were definitely on, because he kept turning each individual one on and off and making sure the green lights flashed before him on the wall of TV sets.
            He checked his watch and was frustrated. He only had four minutes until the Amish reality show was coming on, and he needed to see if Levi was going to leave the community or stay and ask for forgiveness.
            If the power was out the third DVR in his back bedroom wouldn’t record it and he’d miss an episode. That was unacceptable. He searched for his cell phone among the Entertainment Weekly magazines on the coffee table and hit speed-dial #1, which was the cable company. The phone just made a weird beeping noise, and Patrick finally tossed it down in frustration. This wasn’t good.
            In two hours the pawn show marathon started. Even though he’d seen them all, he needed to sit through them again. Just in case he missed something funny or important. Tonight was also the season finale of the annoying little girl who was in the beauty pageants. He hated her and her media whore mother, but he still wanted to see if she’d win the Little Miss Kentucky Pageant. After watching an entire season, what else could he do?
            “Damn,” Patrick said when he realized the phone being out meant he couldn’t order his Meat Lover’s pizza tonight. It was Tuesday. He always ordered a pie. Tomorrow would be Chinese food, and Thursday was Jimmy Johns, followed by Friday night delivery of cheeseburgers from the corner barbeque place. Saturday was back to pizza, but always with sausage, pepperoni and onions. Sunday was another delicious order of Chinese, and Monday leftovers from the previous week.
            Patrick had his life planned out. What else did he need? During the day he could do his online copywriting job, check his stock portfolio, sell a few things on eBay, and never have to leave the house except to collect his mail, packages, and open the door for the delivery person. But now…
            He wanted to scream when he looked at his laptop and saw his internet connection was lost. How would he get any work done? There were several jobs due in the morning he’d already finished and only needed to submit. Now he couldn’t.
            Through the closed blinds he could tell the sun was going down. He didn’t know his neighbor and he didn’t care to know them. They weren’t important. Only the real housewives in New Jersey mattered to him right now, or the Alaskan gold miners and the bad ass truckers in the ice.
            Was that a scream he’d just heard? Patrick ran into his bedroom, hoping it was on the seventy-two inch wall unit he had mounted at an angle so he could see comfortably from his bed, but the screen was blank. Could it have come from outside?
            He found a pair of jeans on the floor and put them on. His white t-shirt was hastily pulled over his torso and it was even tighter than he remembered since last week when he’d put it on.
            Patrick turned the front door knob but hesitated. What if someone was in trouble? What if they needed his help? This was realreality, and he didn’t do well in these situations. He didn’t want to have to deal face to face with people. It was why he worked from home, and had for years. People were opinionated, nosy, leeches and bloodsuckers who only asked you for things. No thanks. It was better to see them act like selfish brats on his television than in person.
            Before he could talk himself out of it, he opened the door and took a step outside. The fresh air was a nice change from the air conditioning. It felt… well, fresh.
            “Ugh,” he muttered when he saw the neighbors standing in their driveway looking right at him. Before he could turn and run back inside the annoying wife was waving her arms at him and her and her husband came running.
            “We didn’t think anyone else was still around,” she said. “Hi, I’m Merna.”
            “Nice to meet you,” he lied and mumbled. There was nothing out here for him. “Did I hear a scream?”
            “Yes,” the husband said, looking around. “It isn’t safe. It also might be too late for us to leave. On the news it said the roads were blocked in and out of Jacksonville.”
            “Why?” Patrick didn’t watch the news. There was really no point in it. He didn’t want that much reality. School shootings, accidents, fires, police reports… all boring. There was no payoff for him, no inside scoop on the people involved. The show Cops had started him on the great reality television craze, and he never wanted to stop.
            “Don’t you watch the news?” The man said incredulously. “Rumor has it you have fifty TV’s in your house.”
            Patrick laughed. “Fifty? I wish. It’s only twenty-two screens. Plus three computers, two laptops, and my tablets. But not fifty. Not yet.” He had been eyeing a seventy-inch plasma online, waiting for the price to drop so he could order two for the dining room.
            “There are zombies,” Merna said. “This is my husband Earl.”
            “Did you say zombies?” Patrick said and scoffed. He was done with these crazies. This was why he didn’t bother with people. They were certifiable. Like the nutty guy in season two of Big Brother.
            “I know it sounds crazy, but before the power went out they were showing live shots from all over the country. They are taking over and eating people.” Merna shivered and crossed her arms. “This isn’t a joke.”
            “Too bad the power is out, or else you would see for yourself,” Earl said. “This isn’t like that zombie show on TV, either. These things are nasty and ripping people apart.”
            “I don’t watch that show. It’s not realistic enough,” Patrick said.
            Merna looked at him oddly. “Realistic? It’s about zombies.”
            “It was nice meeting you,” Patrick lied again. “I’m going inside to see what the fuss is about.”
            “You have power?”
            “Yeah. I am always prepared. Not that it helps, since all the channels are out.”
            “Can we come in? Safety in numbers seems smart right now,” Merna said.
            Patrick didn’t want these strangers in his home. It was bad enough when the cable guy came over to install another line. “Sorry… the place is a mess. Maybe some other time.” He turned and walked as fast as he could to his house.
            “Are you kidding me? We’re going to die out here,” the husband said.
            “Sucks to be you,” Patrick mumbled as he went inside. This was obviously some stupid joke, and he wasn’t buying it. What if this was some reality show? A hidden camera program, maybe. He could end up being a star, but only if he played his cards right.
            Patrick sat down on the couch and thought of a strategy. Would he be the in-your-face guy, brash and defiant, bruising his way to victory? Maybe he’d be the under-the-radar guy, who subtly screwed everyone around him out of the prize. He could make pretend he was everyone’s friend, and then find their strengths and weaknesses.
            But what was the grand prize? What were the rules of the game? How could he gain the advantage and keep it? He did another click-through on the televisions, but they were all still out.
            The knock at the door startled him. Patrick was going to ignore it, but then decided his best course would be to answer and play his part… he decided he would be the gullible, friendly guy and take the other contestants in with his Aww, Shucks! Attitude.
            When Patrick opened the door the neighbors were standing there.
            He smiled. This was his first test, and his first screen time unless they’d be filming him before. “Howdy neighbors.”
            Patrick noticed the blood spitting from Merna’s neck, a shambling crowd gathering behind the couple, and the vacant look in their eyes the second before Earl wrapped his cold fingers around Patrick’s neck.
You can read even more about Armand Rosamilia by visiting his site at armandrosamilia.com and buying his books so he has enough money to stop the coming zombie apocalypse… and he can buy M&M’s.